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Thomas 34
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
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Thomas' Story: Cumin' of Age
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by T. F. Yank
----------------------------[ Disclaimer ]-----------------------
The following story is purely fictitious. Any resemblance to real
life simply means I got lucky. It contains consensual and non-
consensual sex between minors (High School). If such things offend
you, please hit 'N' or however you abort reading messages on your
system.
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*** W A R N I N G ***
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There is a particularly _UGLY_ rape scene depicted in chapters 23 -
26. You may wish to skip these chapters if you find such subject
matter offensive.
-----o0o-----
Due to the length of the entire story (37 chapters in all), Please
do not ask me to e-mail you any parts that you might have missed.
Comments, criticisms (constructive or not), and even flames are
permissable however. (Hell, I've been here for a while and STILL
haven't received even one flame. Starting to feel left out [grin])
----------------------------[ Enjoy ]-----------------------
-- Chapter Thirty-Four
He woke early the next morning. He thought he might be able to walk
to the hospital before Debbie left. He just had to see her one more
time.
Quickly getting dressed, he quietly left the house, and started
walking. Realizing it would take forever to get there at his present
pace, he started to run. He ignored the pain in his arm, caused by his
feet slamming against the pavement.
Finally, after an eternity had passed, he arrived at the front of
the hospital. Entering the building, he went to the information desk
and asked if Debbie had left yet. The lady answered he had just missed
her. He ran back outside and headed for the parking lot.
Just as he turned the corner of the building, he saw her father's
car. It was just turning onto the street and heading away. He started
running after it. His heart skipped a beat when he saw it stop at a
traffic light, and he put on a burst of speed.
He started screaming her name, as he ran. "Debbie! Debbie! DEBBI-
E-E-E!" Before he had covered half the distance, the light changed,
and the car pulled away. Frustrated and winded, he came to a halt, his
lungs gulping air.
He would never be sure it wasn't just his imagination, but he
thought he saw Debbie's face in the car window, her hand raised in
good-bye. He stood there, long after the car had disappeared from
sight, tears running down his cheeks.
Not wanting to go home, he started walking. He wasn't aware of
where he was until he found himself once again in the park. He quickly
sought the solitude of that private place Debbie had shown him.
Lying on the pine needles, he relived the memories of the past ten
days. He remembered her soft smiles, her light laughter. The feel of
her hair against his face, and the warmth of her embrace. Alone, he
allowed all the pain and loneliness to wash over him, to cleanse his
tortured heart.
He must have fallen asleep, because the next think he knew he was
being gently shaken awake.
"Thomas. Thomas, are you okay?"
Opening his eyes, he only saw a darkened silhouette against the
bright mid-day sky. It took a moment before he recognized the voice.
"Thomas, are you okay?"
"Hi Lou. Guess I fell asleep. What are you doing here?"
Louanne helped him to a sitting position, taking care not to hurt
his arm. "Your mother is frantic, worrying about you. She's called my
house at least a dozen times this morning, wanting to know if you had
shown up at our place."
"I didn't mean to upset her. I tried to see Debbie before she left.
But I was too late. After, I just wanted to be alone. How did you
know about this place, and that I'd be here?"
"Oh, I've know about this place for a long time. Debbie and I
really didn't keep secrets from one another. And I remembered the time
we first went to see Debbie in the hospital. You had taken off by
yourself somewhere that morning, too."
"I remembered thinking you had probably come here when I noticed the
pine needles in your hair that day. So I thought I'd check this place
out today, in case you came here again. And here you are."
"Well, I guess I had better get home and let my mother know I'm
okay. I didn't mean to cause everyone so much trouble. I just needed
to be alone for awhile. I needed some time to sort of my thoughts and
feelings."
"That's okay. It wasn't any trouble for me. Matter of fact, I've
been wanting to talk to you."
Thomas suddenly remembered Debbie asking him to make love to
Louanne. He had hoped he could avoid Louanne, but realized that sooner
or later, the topic had to come up.
"Look, Lou. I know what Debbie wants us to do, but I . . ."
"No. Please. Let me go first," she interrupted him. "Debbie told
me what she was going to ask you to do. She made me promise that I
would do it. Allow you to make out with me. She also made me promise
to make love to you, since she wouldn't be here to do it herself."
"But she can't make you do any of that," Thomas protested.
"Okay, maybe make me is the wrong expression. But it doesn't
matter. I want to. For what you did for her. And for what you did
for me."
"Did for you? I didn't do anything for you. Hell, I didn't do much
for Debbie, for that matter. I didn't stop what happened. I didn't do
anything."
"That's not true. Even before that terrible thing happened, you did
a lot for her. You showed her she could be someone special. You
showed her how beautiful it could be to be loved."
"Oh, so now you admit that I might have loved her? I wasn't just
trying to use her? Or just after sex?"
"Okay, so I was wrong. I admit it. But I really care for Debbie,
and was afraid you were like all the other guys she had seen. I didn't
want her to be hurt, that's all."
"Well, it doesn't really matter any more, does it?" Thomas asked
bitterly. "She was hurt. God, was she hurt. But she's gone now. And
whether I really love her, or not, doesn't make much difference now."
"That's not true. Your loving her does make a difference. She
knows you still love her, and knowing that someone can still love her
will help her get over this faster. And, in a way, your love for
Debbie made a difference to me, too."
"To you? I don't understand," Thomas said.
"Yes, to me. It showed me real love is possible. Not just the
kinda thing I had with Rodger. But something special, like you and
Debbie have. It kinda helps me believe there's still hope for me,
too."
Thomas didn't know what to say. He got up and brushed off his
clothing. As an after thought, he ran his hand through his hair.
"Look, I just wanted to say, that I am willing to do what Debbie
asked us to do. You just tell me when. That is if you want to?"
Louanne said, her eyes downcast.
"Look, Lou. I think you're a good looking girl and all, but I just
can't do it. It doesn't seem right. I mean, I love Debbie and . . ."
"Hey, that's okay," snapped Louanne. "We wouldn't want you to do
anything you didn't feel right about. I think you better hurry up and
get home, before your mother calls the cops, or something."
Before Thomas could say anything, Louanne left the grove of trees,
leaving him alone. He thought she was angry, but couldn't understand
what happened to make her that way. Must simply be his confused state
of mind.
He went home. He sat quietly through his mother's lecture about
missing church services, and how such things would surely send his soul
to Hell. He realized her anger was simply hiding her fear. He made a
special effort to be extra helpful around the house.
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"Thomas' Story: Cumin' of Age" Chapter 34 - by T. F. Yank
Copyright © 1991, 1993 by DEH Enterprises. All Rights Reserved.
Permission is granted to distribute in electonic format, unaltered
and un-edited with this copyright statement intact. Hardcopies are
limited to single printing for private, non-profit use only.
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| \*/ "I'd buy you a green dress, but not a |
| Flying Yank | real green dress. That's cruel." |
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